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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461796">until our time (i am yours and you are mine)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjeonghanista/pseuds/missjeonghanista'>missjeonghanista</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, M/M, They are just cute, Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, this is so cute like ugh cute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:27:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjeonghanista/pseuds/missjeonghanista</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicolo doesn't know the depth of pain he will experience if the beautiful man ever walks away from him.</p><p>Yusuf thinks he will die a small death of unexplained pain in his chest, every single day if Nicolo is not near enough for him to see.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>819</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>until our time (i am yours and you are mine)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p><br/>Yusuf thinks of all the wrongs that could be. All the sins and the punishments and the names upon which he could be called if he gave in to the temptation. He thinks of his father who gave him a shield and a sword and sent him to the battlefield. He thinks of his mother who prayed for him to be victorious and safe. He thinks of the friends he lost, the steps they took together, the steps he carved alone. He thinks and he thinks and he thinks.</p><p>He tries not to think about the blonde man opposite the fire, who is glancing at him with eyes as blue as the sea yet as bright as the sky. He doesn’t think about the way the shade changes when the stranger is angry or sad or disappointed. Those lips that quirk up in a rare smile when he trips over himself in the desert, only to be concealed by a fast hand when he turns around. </p><p>He tries, but he fails every time.</p><p>“You’re thinking too loud.” The man says, or at least that’s what Yusuf gets, from the gist of the language that he can comprehend. He has met merchants of the West before and his ears have learnt a word or two, despite his father’s reprimands. Perhaps what the man said is that he’s thinking too much.</p><p>“Yes.” He replies when the man doesn’t look away. It’s a simple word. Si. He can only offer that much to those curious eyes, the ones dropping from his gaze. The man rambles on, too fast for him to catch but still, Yusuf thinks he understands. From the look of his eyes, his hands that clasp and fly around as he speaks, he understands without knowing the words that ring in the night.</p><p>“You don’t have to worry.” Yusuf speaks in his mother tongue, but his eyes look at him closely, holding his gaze, trying to convey what he can’t through words with a stare, hoping that he will get it.</p><p>“Fine.” He seems mad somehow, which Yusuf doesn’t understand. But then, the man almost always seems mad at him, for reasons unknown. The man is getting up, brushing off dust that has gotten on his pants, perhaps making his way towards the bare blankets they have settled for sleeping.</p><p>“Will we die?” His words are rough and harsh speaking the foreign language, nothing like the smooth syllables that the native speaker’s voice rings with but it stops the man from walking away and he turns. Their eyes meet, the glow of the fire reflected orange in the blue and brown and Yusuf’s heart races as stubbornness comes alive in his companion’s eyes.</p><p>“I do not know.” He says clearly, as if talking to a child. Then, he turns around and lies down with his back to Yusuf. The man says something he does not hear, a mumble under his breath and Yusuf doesn’t ask for clarification. It seems like a secret, one that he has no right to know.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>They have ran far enough from the battlefield now, or at least that is what Nicolo thinks. He still can’t read his companion as well as he is read and yet, nothing on those broad shoulders before him indicate fatigue or relief.</p><p>“I am tired.” His Arabic is pathetic at best, he knows and sometimes it pulls soft laughter from the man in front of him, like now. Those shoulders shake as he stifles the giggles bubbling up and yet Nicolo doesn’t hate it. It is tiring, hating on the one person who shares his fate. </p><p>“Then, we shall rest.” Nicolo knows the man is smart, educated. He is faster in learning languages and already, his native language seems much more fluid in that mouth than his own. But he tries to speak in a language that is not his own. He tries, if only to make the other man laugh.</p><p>“You have a nice sword.” Nicolo speaks around a mouthful of stale bread from a town they had stopped by a few days ago. The sword is indeed a spectacle of workmanship, nothing like the one Nicolo and the other children in armour had been given. Those brown eyes look at the sword and a slight smile pulls. He looks rather nostalgic, a dull look of sadness upon his eyes.</p><p>“It was my father’s.” His mouth stops munching down, realizing the mistake he has done.</p><p>“Forgive me. I did not mean to pry.” He says softly, the morsels of bread in his mouth soggy with saliva but he cannot care less. His immortal partner looks up from the sword and gives him an easy smile.</p><p>“Do you have a family back home?” They have never shared any information ever. Nicolo doesn’t even know his name or let his name be known. They are strangers, sharing the same fate or perhaps, curse.</p><p>It should stay that way, but those eyes…Nicolo had rather be stabbed by that man’s sword rather than refuse the silent request behind those eyes.</p><p>“I had lost the last of them before I left for war.” He was a coward, who ran from the grief and the blanket of sombre death in his village by going to war. He was a coward who ran from his mother’s dying wish and pretending it is for the sake of his Lord. </p><p>“My condolences.” The man offers and Nicolo shrugs. He seems to be deep in thought afterwards and then he looks at him in the eyes.</p><p>“Yusuf.” </p><p>It’s beautiful. He doesn’t know what it means or if he can even say it correctly but he suddenly can’t think of any name other than that, those soft two syllables to call upon this man.</p><p>“My name.” He clarifies when Nicolo doesn’t say anything, just stares instead and he nods his head. He rolls the name in his mouth once, twice, thrice and says it to the world.</p><p>“Yosef.” The man chuckles, shaking his head softly. </p><p>“Yusuf.” His lips part slightly to show his teeth, grazing softly on his bottom lip. He pretends to watch it closely, the way his mouth forms the words but it is distracting, no? The pink of his lips, the white of his teeth, his black beard.</p><p>Now he has a name to etch at the back of his mind with the images he has carved there.</p><p>“Yusuf.” There’s a power in words that Nicolo hasn’t realized before. The simple way he can make him, Yusuf, smiles by just saying his name.</p><p>“Nicolo.” The man looks rather taken aback, as if he hasn’t considered getting a name in return. Nicolo waits as the man clears his throat and then, </p><p>“Nicolo.” It’s his name. The name everyone calls him. The name that will be etched on his headstone when he dies one day.</p><p>He wants Yusuf to say that name, over and over again until he can forget everything but the way his lips pout as the syllables linger in his mouth.</p><p>They are back on their horses when Nicolo’s mind wanders back to his mother’s words on her deathbed.</p><p>
  <em>Find a good wife and live a happy life, my son.</em>
</p><p>Perhaps he can fulfil half of the wish his mother had asked from him.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The town is perfect. Perfect in the way that the market is filled with merchants and people from nearby villages that they both get by without much people recognizing behind the scarf covering their faces and hair. Perfect in the way that almost no one knows where they live. Perfect in the way that no one bothers two young men living by themselves, raising sheep and cows with no family to speak of. </p><p>And Yusuf…Yusuf who speaks fluent Italian with him and Arabic with the merchants, Yusuf who shaves his beard clean with the edge of his sword, wincing as blood drips when his finger slips, Yusuf who makes him breakfast because he is ‘far too skinny for a soldier’, Yusuf who hugs him tightly to calm him down from the dreams of his painful deaths, Yusuf who smiles warmly at the young boys sent by their mothers for milk or wool. Yusuf is also, perfect.</p><p>It is almost sacrilegious; the way Nicolo’s eyes follow Yusuf as they spend their time in this perfect town, while it stays that way. He has always has a thing for beautiful things; buildings, horses, people. Or at least that is what he tells himself when his gaze stays locked on Yusuf, with his shirt clinging on his skin from the heat, his hair damp from the water he has poured over his head. </p><p>“You have been watching me. Is something wrong?” Yusuf asks from the yard of their humble house and Niccolo jumps, surprised. His cheeks blushes pink, the colour of expensive cloth fluttering in the marketplace, his eyes looking away rapidly.</p><p>“Nothing!” His voice comes out higher and he bites his lip. Yusuf’s teasing smile has grown wider when he glances up and it is not fair, is it? It is not fair that Yusuf knows what he is doing to Nicolo and he is the only one burdened with the knowledge and the heat that is coursing through his vein. </p><p>He wants him, in every and any way, even those that will become his downfall.</p><p>He wonders if Yusuf knows what he is thinking right now, the dirty thoughts and images flashing through his brain. He must not know, Nicolo thinks to himself. It has been months since he realizes that he has given Yusuf the greatest power over him. The power to hurt him for eternity without ever using his sword, or arrows or daggers or bare hands. </p><p>Niccolo doesn’t know the depth of pain he will experience if the beautiful man ever walks away from him.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yusuf will never forget the first time. The warmth in his arms, the dampness on his shoulder, the tight grip on his back. It is sin, he reminds himself, no matter how calm it makes him feel. </p><p>The man with blue eyes and pale skin and yellow hair is trembling, his little sobs filling their small house as silent tears roll down those rosy cheeks.</p><p>“Nicolo.” He doesn’t say anything other than his name, over and over, little sighs leaving his chest as the man hugs him tighter and closer. His heart is beating so fast and Yusuf wonders if it is because of his touch or the dreams that has awoken him.<br/>His heart wants it to be because of him, his voice, his arms around those shoulders, his lips pressing on the crown of his head. He has always been rather deaf to what he wants, compared to what people expect of him.</p><p>“You are fine. You are safe. I am here.” Yusuf says anew, once Nicolo’s trembles have lessened and the fingers pressing bruises on his back have become lax. He pulls away, wiping away the reminders of tears on his eyes.</p><p>“Are you saying I am safe because you are here?” He teases and Yusuf gives him a huge grin, one that he finds reflected back to him. </p><p>Somehow the night is kind, and the moonlight shows him the ways Nicolo is even more handsome in the darkness of the world than the day. His fingers etch for coal and parchment, to sketch the way his eyes glisten with the soft hue of a blue Yusuf hasn’t seen before or the flush of his cheeks, so vibrantly contrasting his pale skin.</p><p>“Perhaps. I am a warrior, after all.” It is a safe territory to joke about, teasing about each other’s strength and skills. He doesn’t think he will die if Nicolo is not there to protect him ( even if it’s a temporary death). He thinks he will die a small death of unexplained pain in his chest, every single day if Nicolo is not near enough for him to see.</p><p>He tries to ignore that thought, for what is good dwelling on what will never happen?<br/>Or at least what he wishes to never happen.</p><p>“I am also a warrior, in case you forgot, we met at a battlefield.” Nicolo rolls his eyes, still red and luminous with liquid but with a light in them that Yusuf doesn’t think he will ever want to see gone.</p><p>“Ah yes, where I killed you.”</p><p>“I struck my sword in you first.” Yusuf chuckles and shakes his head.</p><p>“If that’s what you say, sure.”</p><p>“What-that’s the truth! Do not say lies now!”</p><p>“Or what will you do?” Yusuf teases, removing Nicolo’s wild hair from his eyes. Nicolo tenses at the simple gesture and his heart beats faster. </p><p><em>Do not question me for it, Nicolo, I beg you</em>.</p><p>“Perhaps I will strike you here, where I had first killed you.” He silently thanks the God who has abandoned him as Nicolo jabs between Yusuf’s ribs, somehow managing to accurately point the very place where his sword had been plunged almost 2 years ago, in the middle of dust, blood and clanging steel.</p><p>“And still, I did not die. Perhaps you are not as good as a warrior you think you are.” Nicolo scoffs and flings his arm around in frustration.</p><p>“I did not die either!” Yusuf thinks wistfully and nods his head slowly.</p><p>“Ah, after all, I am a merciful man.” Nicolo doesn’t have a comeback for that, too busy stifling his laughter behind palms. The sound still spills out into the silent night, intermixed with chuckles of the black-haired man before him.</p><p>“Go back to sleep now.” Yusuf watches the Western man closely as he walks away, not missing the slight tremble in those eyes or the hands that seem aching to reach out to him.</p><p>“You are safe, I am here.” Yusuf softly whispers as he stands at the archway, a smile that Nicolo probably cannot see lingering on his lips. </p><p>“Ah, the words of a warrior.” Nicolo teases and Yusuf laughs as he returns to his room.</p><p><em>It is not the words of a warrior at all, Nicolo</em>.</p><p>In the dead of the night, with the warmth and wetness of Nicolo’s tears on his chest, Yusuf cannot bear to hide what his heart desires anymore, lying awake even as he curls under his blanket, not moving a muscle.</p><p>“It is the words of a lover.” He finally admits.</p><p>The world doesn’t come crashing down on him. No pieces of sky fell from above to kill him once and for all, time doesn’t stop to imprison him, no demon is emerging out of darkness to take him to the depths of Hell.</p><p>His heart simply feels lighter and his mind clears. A small smile curls the corner of his lips and he closes his eyes to a dreamless sleep, the easiest death of it all.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Nicolo doesn’t really care for the young boys who hold easy conversation in Arabic, a language he still cannot speak without a thick accent, despite his efforts. He doesn’t spare them even a glance, except for<em> that one</em>, the one with light eyes and light hair who smiles bigger to Yusuf than Nicolo, who gives him a small glance before his eyes focuses entirely on Yusuf.</p><p>He doesn’t really like <em>that one</em>.</p><p>Yusuf has mentioned him before. A young man named Omar, whose mother buys milk from him almost every week. They seem to bond over street games they have both played growing up and of the news brought by merchants at the marketplace. </p><p>“Perhaps I should deliver milk to his house, instead.” Nicolo tries to keep his tone light, casual but there’s tension where he hasn’t intended there to be, or even realizes is there. Yusuf looks up from their simple dinner, enlightened by a tall, slim candle with confusion in those brown orbs.</p><p>“Why?” Nicolo shrugs.</p><p>“She has been a regular customer. Courtesy.” He says the last word in Arabic, hoping it will somehow distract Yusuf’s curiosity but the man laughs.</p><p>“Perhaps you should be in charge of the stall, so you can practice your Arabic.” He bemuses and Nicolo reddens. </p><p>“I am getting better.” Yusuf has a fatherly smile on his face, although it is not without a teasing glint in his eyes.</p><p>“Yes, I did not say you are getting worse.” Nicolo doesn’t reply then, letting the silence drags a little longer.</p><p>“You seem fond of him.” Yusuf looks at him quizzically and Nicolo looks away from him.</p><p>“Omar. You seem fond of him.”</p><p>“Ah. Do I look like it? It is just easy to speak with him.” Yusuf shrugs as if it is nothing. As if the worry and anxiety flowing through Nicolo’s blood is baseless and exaggerating. He stays silent, letting Yusuf to glance at him with confusion.</p><p>“Of course, it must be very hard to speak with me, a foreign blood.” Nicolo hasn’t meant for the words to be scathing or for him to seem so sensitive but it is too late to take back. Yusuf is staring at him with wide eyes and his mouth has stopped munching.</p><p>“I do not…mean it that way.” Yusuf starts and he simply stares back. He has no right to corner Yusuf when he has no fault, really, when it is all the fault of his silly heart and this out of control infatuation.</p><p>“What I meant to say is, I do not care for him the way I do for you. It would not matter if my words are crass or offensive. I do not care how he sees me.” Yusuf seems fairly agitated as if he cannot find the words to convey his exact thoughts. As if him, the man who masters language as if he is a bird drinking water, this man is scrambling his mind to find the correct words to say to him.</p><p>“And me?” Yusuf doesn’t meet his eyes.</p><p>“Do you care how I see you?” Nicolo asks and he knows he is pushing the invisible line they both have been tiptoeing around but for once, Niccolo doesn’t have the energy to be scared or to run away.</p><p>“I have finished my dinner. I shall be in my room.” Yusuf mumbles instead and Niccolo slams his palm on the table.</p><p>“Finish what you start, Yusuf.” His voice is shaking as Yusuf turns around, brown eyes staring directly into him.</p><p>“And if you don’t like what I have to say?” Nicolo feels like laughing to those words. What can Yusuf says that he will hate?</p><p>“I will not. Trust me. I will not.” Nicolo knows then. He knows Yusuf can see what he truly means beyond the mere words he shares. He cannot hide the desire or the love in his eyes, not when in those brown eyes lie the fear and uncertainty they both have been spending days and nights over.</p><p>“I care for you more than anyone in the world. My words, when spoken to you, are chosen by my mind, not my heart because I fear what should not be known will spills. It is only in my best light that I want you to see me, so I shall not smear your thoughts of me.” His words are caught in his throat and Nicolo takes this moment to stand, mere steps separating them with the candle illuminating both their faces.</p><p>“What does you heart wants to say?” Yusuf looks like he would rather be stabbed and die rather than answer Nicolo’s unabashedly direct question but then, Nicolo thinks to himself, he would not let Yusuf escape that way.</p><p>But Yusuf does not run. He reaches for Nicolo’s hand instead and kisses it softly.</p><p>“My heart wants you for itself.” </p><p>Yusuf is much more braver than Nicolo is.<br/>He decides to reward that bravery, with a kiss.</p><p>His lips meet Yusuf’s softly, a taste, a trial, a challenge. His eyes look into Yusuf and there he finds a delight, those eyes widening as if the man cannot believe what is happening. And yet, the hands holding his move to his waist, pulling him closer and their lips meet again, for longer, harder. Nicolo’s own hands grab on the sides of his face, tilting his head so that their lips fit better and Lord, if he knows the sweet nectar of Yusuf’s mouth, he should have done this months ago.</p><p>He lets out a little moan when Yusuf bites his bottom lip and the man, inexperienced yet daring, plunges his tongue into his mouth. Every single inch of his body is burning up with desire to touch and be touched, to give and take whatever he can with this man who has stolen his heart. His tongue slides against Yusuf and he doesn’t want to stop for air when he doesn’t know yet the ridges at the roof of Yusuf’s mouth. He hasn’t gotten enough of those sweet sounds spilling of the man.</p><p>Yusuf pulls away first and their eyes meet, wide, pupils dilating. The man laughs and Nicolo follows, the laughter of disbelief over how much they have been waiting for this moment and how they have been worrying over nothing, nothing but their own minds and fears getting in the way.</p><p>“I do not want to force you for anything.” Yusuf starts, ever the romantic and Nicolo fondly rolls his eyes.</p><p>“You should know how much I want you.” Nicolo whispers into his ears, licking the shell as he moves his hips closer until his erection is flush against Yusuf’s thigh.</p><p>“This,” He rolls his hips slightly, “is how much I want you. So please, <em>take me</em>.” He has never been desperate, but he also has never fell so deeply into this abyss called love.</p><p>Yusuf’s breath becomes harsher against his neck and then he is biting softly, nibbling on the skin before licking on it with his tongue. The pain shoots through Nicolo, a shock of pleasure to his dick, and moans spill out of his mouth as if he has never been touched before. He has never been touched this way, for sure. The way Yusuf’s hands roam over his body feels like fire spreading against his skin and he can burn forever by those hands, again and again, death in the hands of his lover, his lover, so intensely sinful and tempting.</p><p>“Come, my love.” </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It is not fair that Nicolo gets to pant against his ear, making him lose his mind every five seconds and still expect him to get the knots of his pants to unravel fast enough for them both. “Just rip it.” He hears Nicolo grunts when his knuckles brush against the erection pressing against the fabric. He cannot help the chuckle that leaves him, even if Nicolo pays back by pressing down on his lap, giving him the delicious friction he can’t find the words to ask for. </p><p>“Nicolo.” He grumbles and his lover, Yusuf cannot believe it, his lover laughs as he drags Yusuf down to the bed, letting him hover over the Western man. Yusuf deftly lights the candle on the bedside, the light instantly bouncing off the reddened cheeks of Niccolo.</p><p>“You are beautiful.” Nicolo blushes even deeper and Yusuf tugs his pants off. The man gasps as the action takes him by surprise but those pale arms hook around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss that threatens to consume him whole. Yusuf would’ve let it, to be honest. He can be lost in this pleasure and if he does, he wishes to never be found. </p><p>Their clothes are strewn on the floor without much care and Yusuf drinks up the view before him the one he has been glancing in fear and embarrassment. He isn’t sure if those same fear and embarrassment are still in his eyes but Nicolo only looks at him with lust and adoration in his and Yusuf lets his worries melt away. He has a lover to satisfy and he aims to do his best at it.</p><p>“Come here.” The words form a soft melody as Nicolo sighs and Yusuf sinks down to kiss Nicolo, on his pinkish lips that are beginning to bruise, to his neck, already littered with marks that will not stay long, to his shoulders, bare and strong, down to his torso, his abdomen, down and down until he is met with a nest of light coloured hair. He looks up, unsure and Nicolo’s face forms a soft smile.</p><p>“Take your massage oil, love.” He kisses Yusuf’s face all over, even as he is reaching under the bed to take the vial of oil and Yusuf presses it into his hand.</p><p>“Keep your eyes on mine.” Nicolo says, blushing as he dips his fingers into the oil and pushes it lower, past his erection where Yusuf cannot see from where they are pressed together. His eyes travel down, following those fingers but Niccolo flicks his chin up, kissing him.</p><p>“You are putting your fingers there.” Nicolo chuckles against his lips, nodding even if his face is contorting.</p><p>“Lie down.” Yusuf almost has to push him down and perhaps he did push him down a little, if only because Nicolo is so stubborn.</p><p>“I will do it for you.” Yusuf says, slicking his fingers with the oil. Nicolo splutters some words about how he does not have to but Yusuf kisses him, effectively shutting him up as well as losing the tension that suddenly knots his body tight.</p><p>Nicolo has two knuckles of his middle finger in and Yusuf eases it out, replacing it with his own. It feels strange, warm and tight and slightly ridgy. He kisses Nicolo, trying to take his mind away from the intrusion on his behind. He has two fingers in when Nicolo suddenly moans into his mouth, arching his back, eyes widened in surprise. He presses that spot again and Niccolo gasps as he clutches his arms.</p><p>“Yusuf…Yusuf…” His dick is leaking, glistening his stomach in the light of the candle and Yusuf has never felt so honored before. How can he not? Here is the view he will never forget, one that he can never sketch because the world doesn’t deserve to see the beauty that is Nicolo. Nicolo who is so lost and drowning in pleasure that he is asking Yusuf for more, whispering fragments of words as he tries to get Yusuf to press there again, and again and again.</p><p>“My love, my love.” Yusuf praises him as he removes his fingers, lining his dick to Nicolo’s entrance. Their eyes meet and Yusuf kisses him deeply, moving in slowly until he is plush against his ass and Nicolo sighs out. He looks where they are joined, and it really is a miracle, isn’t it? Because Yusuf has wanted this for so long and not only is this his wish but also the man he loves, the man who trusts him enough to lie beneath him, asking him to stay, and Yusuf does because he cares about this man more than anything that the world can ever offer.</p><p>It is warm and tight and Yusuf feels like he will explode, the heat at the base of his stomach already threatening to spill out. “Yusuf, move.” Nicolo asks of him and who is he to not deliver the wants of his greatest love?</p><p>Yusuf moves, slowly inching out and in of Nicolo. The sound of their skins slapping against one another and the sweet moans spilling off their mouths as they rock against one another, the world gone by now, only this space of these two lovers and a candle showing them all that there is to life.</p><p>He moves faster, encouraged by Nicolo’s words, filthy and beautifully bouncing off the walls into his ears, a secret that only they share. He hits that spot, the one that has Nicolo begging for more again and again, feeling his own peak coming.</p><p>“Yusuf, Yusuf…touch me, please, please…oh Lord…” Nicolo is clutching on him and Yusuf wraps a hand around his dick, pumping it in time with his thrusts and Nicolo’s moans become louder, higher.</p><p>“Nicolo, I love you, I love you..” He rambles in Arabic or Italian, he does not really care, the words of love and affection and adoration falling out of his lips as easily as he has come to love this man and Nicolo kisses him deeply, tongues licking saliva off one another.</p><p>His pace is off now, faster and erratic as he gets closer to the peak of his pleasure and then Nicolo is shouting his name, white liquid spurting out to his abdomen. He comes not long after, burying his head on Nicolo’s neck as he spills inside Nicolo, their bodies glued on one another as they ride off their high.</p><p>Nicolo kisses him softly, no more the biting ferocity of lust that has been taking over them for the last hour but with the kindness of which Yusuf can never even attempt to compete against. The soft adoration envelopes them as they cuddle against one another, looking into each other’s eyes as if they cannot believe what just happened.</p><p>“So you love me?” Yusuf asks, narrowing his eyes with a grin on his lips. Perhaps he wanted to make Nicolo blush or splutter as he can sometimes with his jokes and jabs. But not this, Nicolo blushes but he nods his head.</p><p>“I do. I love you more than anything I have ever loved.” Yusuf’s teasing expression melts away and a softer, sincere smile comes to view.</p><p>“If there is a better word than love to describe all that you are to me, I would’ve find it. And I would show it to you every day until you forget the days when I have yet not the pleasure of loving you, and being yours.”</p><p><em>Yours</em>.</p><p>“Mine.” Niccolo repeats and Yusuf takes his hand, kissing each knuckle and placing it on his cheek.</p><p>“I am yours and you are mine. For what it’s worth, until the end of time.” Yusuf speaks of such big promises. If it is anyone else, Nicolo would have laughed at the attempt. But Yusuf, only Yusuf can pledge such promises and stay true to it.</p><p>“Until the end of time.” Nicolo repeats and they lull away in the silence of the night, pliant, satisfied and happy in each other’s warmth, when Yusuf suddenly says,</p><p>“And Omar…”</p><p>“Why are you speaking of him?” Niccolo sounds incredulous and Yusuf laughs.</p><p>“I imagined you look like him, when you were younger. Perhaps that is why I enjoy his company.” Yusuf sighs, scooting closer so that his chest is flush against Nicolo’s back.</p><p>“You should enjoy my company more.” Nicolo doesn’t want to sound jealous or controlling, it is only a teasing jab but Yusuf replies with a chuckle,</p><p>“I always have, and I shall do so, until my time comes.”</p><p>It takes Nicolo’s breath away, the depth of this man’s loyalty and love, his sureness of this love; their love.</p><p>“Until our time.” Niccolo whispers. Yusuf hums against his ear and they are both beginning to lose to sleep when he hears the love of his life mumbles against his skin,</p><p>“Until our time.”</p><p>
  <em>Until our time, I am yours and you are mine. </em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have fallen for this ship and I cannot get up. Thus, this fic.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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